Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, THE OLD OAKEN BUCKET, by SAMUEL WOODWORTH



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THE OLD OAKEN BUCKET, by             Poet's Biography
First Line: How dear to my [or, this] heart are the scenes of my childhood
Last Line: The moss covered bucket which hangs in the well.
Variant Title(s): The Bucket
Subject(s): Children; Nostalgia; Scituate, Massachusetts; Childhood


HOW dear to this heart are the scenes of my childhood
When fond recollection presents them to view!
The orchard, the meadow, the deep-tangled wildwood
And every loved spot which my infancy knew;
The wide-spreading pond and the mill which stood by it
The bridge, and the rock where the cataract fell;
The cot of my father, the dairy-house nigh it,
And e'en the rude bucket which hung in the well, --
The old oaken bucket, the iron-bound bucket,
The moss-covered bucket which hung in the well.
That moss-covered vessel I hail as a treasure;
For often, at noon, when returned from the field,
I found it the source of an exquisite pleasure,
The purest and sweetest that nature can yield.
How ardent I seized it, with hands that were glowing!
And quick to the white-pebbled bottom it fell;
Then soon, with the emblem of truth overflowing,
And dripping with coolness, it rose from the well; --
The old oaken bucket, the iron-bound bucket,
The moss-covered bucket, arose from the well.
How sweet from the green mossy brim to receive it,
As, poised on the curb, it inclined to my lips!
Not a full blushing goblet could tempt me to leave it,
Though filled with the nectar that Jupiter sips.
And now, far removed from the loved situation,
The tear of regret will intrusively swell,
As fancy reverts to my fathers plantation,
And sighs for the bucket which hangs in the well;
The old oaken bucket, the iron-bound bucket,
The moss covered bucket which hangs in the well.




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